30. Album: Agency for the Disappeared

Marina found the album in the nest of debris between Machi's bed and the ledge of his garrett window. The album was there but upside down, and all the photographs of Ori were missing. This was not the family album with photos of Machi every month of his life beside the same stuffed bunny, the baptism, the picnics, the family trips to the lake upstate. This was hers, with photographs of her poetry readings. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at this album and had no idea Machi knew it existed or where it was.
She needed photographs of Ori to take to the the City branch of InfoDes, the agency for the disappeared.. Paco and Sandra insisted she had to start a file on him even if the agency found no one, did nothing, certainly nothing for anyone renditioned , kidnapped by the State. It was needed if they were to add his name to any of the ongoing litigation. Although the Peace in Our Time law had pretty much done away with all constitutional and civil rights there were lawyers still looking for ways to use the law against the State. The very idea made her laugh. “Trying to win against the player that made the rules.” Without Ori around she’d caught herself more and more talking to herself out loud.
It wasn’t hard to figure out where Machi might have put the photos. He had a few burrows in his room. She found them in the box between his bed and the wall. The photos were attached to a ribbon and stones and pine cones were tied to that. She’d wondered what Machi, David and La Nena had been doing with the loot they were bringing from the park. La Nena had invented a ritual for Machi, a way to make him feel he could conjure his Papi back. Why should her son have to go through all this pain? The surge of rage that rose through her made her drop the box. Baseball cards and action figures missing limbs and tiny trucks and cars fell out. Carefully she returned Machi’s treasures to the box, left the magic ribbon of photographs alone.
She put on a gray suit and high heels and even lipstick and set off to the Partido’s storefront againt. Sandra let her into the back room where the row of green file cabinets holding Verdad archives still stood. She chose among the photographs of Ori speaking at rallies and marching at the front of demonstrations, the headshot from his column.
She walked into the waiting room at InfoDes trying to remember how many times before she'd come here looking for Ori; at least four times. He'd turned up each of those times. She took a number at the information counter, and sat down among the rows of waiting people, mostly women. She looked around and saw a dozen versions of desperation set into their faces. Before leaving the storefront she’d grabbed the last issue of Verdad and stared at the cover photograph of Paco lying dead, shirtless on a slab. Why show that ? Wasn't making Paco a martyr a celebration of defeat? The headline covered part of his chest and called to a rally to protest the escalation of disappearances. What difference would that make? They couldn’t undie him? No matter how much combativity their movement generated, the State sucked it up. How many more times could they rise up again?
She saw two rows ahead a familiar face she couldn’t place. She was too young to be a partido militant. She stared at her, studied the back of the head until the woman bowed, as if to pray. She recognized one of the Hermanas from Casa Zion. Did she feel Marina's stare? Just then she turned, came to Marina, kissed her. “I’m so glad to find you here. You’re Fara’s friend.” She nodded and let herself be kissed on the cheek. “Soy Marina.” The girl sat down beside her. “Hermana Beatriz.” She held a small New Testament and switched it from hand to hand. “Reverendo Mercado made me come and I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do or who to talk to in a place like this. Gente del mundo.” She glanced at Marina then back at her book. “Maybe you know, maybe you know and then I don’t have to talk to them.” She looked at Marina again. “Are you hiding Fara?”
“Fara’s missing?”
“Reverendo Mercado was for letting her go. He believes that sometimes the person has to want to get rid of the demon. You can’t make them want to get rid of the demon, only the Lord can. But La Hermana Paula prayed him into looking for her. She prayed him into listening to her. She dared to tell him we are the agents of the Lord. We have to fight for the people. We can’t just let the demon win without putting up a fight.”
“When did you last see her?”
“She went out over a week ago. She said she was going to see her daughter.”
“Daughter?”
“You didn’t know she has a little girl? The City took her and put her in foster care and once a month Fara gets to see her. Usually she takes me but this time she pushed me right back in the door. She’s been losing to the demon often since she lost the job. I’ve been the one letting her in late at night, getting her cleaned up and into bed, keeping her quiet so El Reverendo doesn’t see her drunk. You should see Hermana Paula and I giving Fara a cold shower without her screaming.”
“Hermana Paula says there’s no point to coming here. Only the Lord will find her. But he made me come.”
The digits moved on the display board hanging over the information desk. Forty two. “Mine.” Beatriz rose and Marina saw she was wearing the long skirt, the flat laced shoes. When they first met she hadn't noticed how young Beatriz was. “Just talk to them like you would to Sister Paula. Tell them as much as you know.” Her own number was 98. S he needed to get to Women in Action by the early afternoon. The clock overhead showed almost eleven o’clock. The program was in transition, about to be taken over officially by Centro Libre, whereas before they had served as the host for a program officially funded through All Read. The women had their top candidate for teacher doing a demonstration lesson they wanted Marina to observe. It had been a fight with Centro Libre’s board but at last they’d agreed to the women’s demand to interview the teachers. She sank into the chair and closed her eyes. Why was everything a struggle?
“Durmiendo?” Sister Beatriz touched her arm. Marina jumped. “The man I spoke to was very nice. He took notes and opened a file.
Marina looked at Beatriz. Should she tell her she’d seen Fara just two days ago in Moon Park, still praying to the Virgen del Palo? She wanted to ease Beatriz’ fear. She’d want to be told if someone had seen Ori. But Fara was a grown woman. She’d chosen to leave Casa Zion. She’d get herself found when she wanted to.
Her number was up on the board. She’d maybe make it to the Centro Libre interview. The man sitting across from her behind the small gray desk in the small gray cubicle, looked up and introduced himself. She told him. He wrote things down. He took the card with Ori's file number on it: 410316. He rose and walked around the desk and stood close to her by the entrance to the cubicle. He was much taller and bent down. “If you think he’s been renditioned there’s not much happens here. Try this.” He handed her a card for Justice Works. “You didn’t get this from me.”
When Marina walked in and sat at the round table by the door the teacher was handing out workbook sheets. Alta and Asia looked up at her and rolled their eyes. They would never approve a teacher who used workbook sheets.